


You Know There's No Loyalty Program, Right?

by Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Author Is Sleep Deprived, Awkward First Times, Car Sex, Curiosity, Drug Use, Fluff and Smut, Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Human Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Loss of Virginity, M/M, Modern Era, Podfic Welcome, Prostitution, Romantic Comedy, Sex Positive Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Sex Worker Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Sexual Humor, The Author Regrets Nothing, Trans Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25618108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts/pseuds/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts
Summary: So many songs are about love, sex, or both. Alastor just wants to know what all the fuss is about.An opportunity to find out presents itself.It was just supposed to be one time....He wasn't supposed to get attached.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 85
Kudos: 635





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Car sex is awkward and stupid and really fucking funny if you try to fuck in the driver's seat.

Songs about sex were rampant on the radio these days. Always love or sex but often the latter. Alastor couldn't stay on a station for more than two songs without one or both of them being of a carnal nature. He didn't mind it, but he also didn't really get it. There had to be something to it for so many artist to wax poetic about it at best and at worst repeat the same vulgar phrase twenty times to a beat that was equally grating. 

Two things alerted Alastor to the fact that he had been thinking on the subject too hard; One being that he had stalled at a red light long enough for someone to honk, and the second that he had stalled long enough for one of the people loitering outside of a bar to knock on his passenger side window. Long hair that was mostly blonde but dark at the roots. Soft face. Thin. Dressed in a very short skirt and laced leather vest covered by a long fur-lined coat. Alastor couldn't tell their gender at first, and it didn't really matter. Against his better judgement, he pushed the button to lower the window.

"You lonely, babe?" The person asked, leaning in.

"Not particularly." Alastor answered before his mind caught up to what was actually being asked.

"A'ight. Your loss!" The person conceded, starting to back off.

It would be a way to find out what all the fuss was about, Alastor considered. "Wait!" He called, and the person turned. Alastor leaned over to open the door. Another car honked and someone shouted for Alastor to get moving. The person went around the back of the car, took a picture of Alastor's licence plate, then returned to hop into the passenger seat. 

"Condoms are mandatory, don't worry I got 'em. Boots don't come off. No piss, shit, vomit, or blood. I use traffic light safewords." The person explained. "And before you get surprised and stab me over it, I'm a _man_. Just got tits and a cunt instead of a cock."

"That is a lot of information to give before introducing yourself." Alastor remarked, shifting gears to leave the light. "I noticed you didn't name a price." 

"Cost depends on what you want and how much I like you." The man said brightly. "You can just call me your Angel for the night."

"You don't know me." 

"I know you're fuckin' awkward and this is probably your first time buyin'." Angel countered. "And you didn't try talkin' me out of any of my rules or question my gender."

Alastor wondered if he should mention that this would be the first time he'd done anything at all aside from occasional masturbation. He decided against it.

"So, you takin' me home or a hotel?" Angel asked, watching the window and memorizing the street names that they passed.

"Considering I doubt you take credit I have to stop by the bank." Alastor explained. "Then you can tell me how to take you to your place?"

"No." Angel said sternly. "I meant _your_ home. I don't need a fuckin' stalker."

"I'm not a stalker." Alastor protested.

"Said every stalker ever." Angel snorted. 

Well, Alastor certainly wasn't bringing a stranger into his own house no matter how charming they happened to be. Not a live one anyway. And since Angel hadn't even been subtle about texting the picture of Alastor's licence plate to at least three people he would be keeping his living status. It wouldn't have been an issue anyway. Angel hadn't given Alastor any reason to consider murder, he was just there to sate a random bout of curiosity and then they would both be on their merry ways.

The bank itself was closed, it being a fair bit after ten in the evening. Even so there was an ATM embedded into the outside wall. Alastor parked and stepped out, taking his keys with him since he really didn't need to risk his car being stolen. Angel stepped out as well, leaning against the side of the car and watching the road. He was still fiddling with his phone, being very obvious about texting someone. Clearly a safety line so someone would come looking for him if he stopped responding for too long. Smart.

"You still haven't stated a price." Alastor reminded.

"Well, what do you want?" Angel asked.

Alastor shrugged. "Dealer's choice."

"Really?" Angel asked, surprised. "You don't gotta be shy."

"Really." Alastor confirmed. 

Angel tossed up a number, less than his usual charge by a small margin. Alastor didn't question it, unsure what buying sex usually cost anyway, and took the amount out in cash before returning to the car. 

"I'm guessin' hotel since either of our homes ain't an option?" Angel wondered as he got back in the car and tucked the money handed to him into his boot.

Alastor considered. He'd already spent enough money without adding the cost of a room. It was dark, though. The bank was closed. No one was around. The car had tinted windows anyway.

"Why not here?" He suggested.

"Fair enough." Angel agreed, not at all bothered that while alone they were technically in public. "In here or do you wanna bend me over the hood?" 

The thought of doing anything outside hadn't even crossed Alastor's mind. "In here is fine." He quickly answered. 

"Alright," Angel said easily, taking out a handfull of condoms and tossing them onto the dashboard. "Latex allergy?" He asked.

Alastor shrugged. "Not that I know of." 

"Well no fun finding out the hard way." Angel said, plucking one of the blue-packaged skyns out of the pile. "Push your seat back a bit."

Alastor did so, his mind reeling at the reality of this actually _happening._ At least Angel knew exactly what needed doing and was taking the lead. Even if Alastor knew what to do in a theoretical sense he really wasn't prepared to be initiating anything without some guidance. He also wasn't prepared for the mouth that suddenly latched onto the crook of his neck and wound up flinching away from the shock of it.

"What? I don't bite." Angel assured as he drew back, openly confused. "Unless you ask."

"I just wasn't expecting…" Alastor trailed off. "Nevermind." He knew there were probably several things about to happen that he wasn't expecting. He had paid for whatever the prostitute saw fit to do to him, after all. 

Angel went back to his neck, his ear, erogenous zones Alastor wasn't even aware of having but that were definitely serving to corral his bloodflow downward. At some point Angel had even managed to unbutton his shirt in a practiced way that Alastor barely registered it happening it until he had hands on his bare skin. Just as he was starting to get used to that at least, a hand grasped at the front of his pants and he jolted. 

"Been a while, huh?" Angel asked as casually as if he were making a comment on the weather.

Alastor didn't answer, deciding to let Angel believe what he wanted. His lack of response evidently wasn't a problem as Angel continued on his task of working Alastor's partially hard dick to full mast through his pants. Alastor's nerves started to rise as well. 

Was he supposed to be doing something? The quiet was starting to get awkward, so should he speak? Would talking make it more awkward? What would he even talk about?

"Shit you're tense," Angel said, drawing Alastor out of his mildly panicked internal self-interrogation but clearly picking up on it. He was leaning over the center console of the car, face turned toward Alastor, briefly mouthing at the skin just above the edge of Alastor's trousers as he unbuttoned them. "Rough day?" He asked, getting the zipper down as well. 

"Average," Alastor answered, since he'd been asked. 

A quick downward pull of both pants and boxers let Alastor's erection free. 

"Ooh, bit above average, I'd say." Angel replied lewdly. 

"Ah!" Alastor gasped as Angel's mouth closed around the head of his cock, not prepared for the sudden wet heat. Hands were somewhat familiar even if Angel's hands were not his own but this was something entirely new. 

Along that line of thought, Alastor realized he wasn't sure what to do with his own hands. One he put to his mouth to cover any more unexpected and embarrassing sounds that might escape him. The other gripped the edge of the center console between the seats which Angel was leaning over. It didn't look very comfortable, he observed. 

Angel pulled back briefly to speak, "You _can_ touch me, you know." Then he was right back to doing something with his tongue that made Alastor wonder what in human evolution had led to people having such dexterity in their mouths. 

_Probably a need for speech._

Taking Angel's permission as a suggestion he put the hand that had been white-knuckling the edge of the center console softly in the other's hair. It was very soft for being clearly bleached, and he couldn't help but comb his fingers through it. He got an appreciative hum in return, which he could feel the vibrations of as Angel had taken him into his throat.

Alastor let out a low whine, unable to keep quiet, and Angel pulled off a moment later. He sat up and stretched, rubbing his ribs from where the center console had dug in. He wiped his mouth, then handed Alastor a wrapped condom while he fished a separate packet of lube out of his boot. 

"You got a hole preference?" Angel asked bluntly as Alastor took care of putting the condom on himself.

"I believe I did say this was all dealer's choice." Alastor stated a bit awkwardly. He personally didn't care. 

"A'ight. Works for me." Angel chuckled, twisting and tossing a leg over to straddle Alastor's lap, opening the lube and fingering himself for a moment.

It took some maneuvering. There was limited space in the car and Angel was of a tall and lanky build. Angel hiked his skirt up, not that it needed to go much higher as short as it was to begin with. Alastor was somewhat appalled that the other clearly wasn't wearing undergarments, though he supposed for this sirt of work it made sense to keep things easy-acess. Angel lined up and slowly sank down, and Alastor couldn't help but watch as his cock disappeared into the other's cunt. Needing to put his hands somewhere, Alastor gripped Angel's thighs.

"Try not to bruise me buster," Angel warned, though his tone was playful. "Don't feel like explainin' handprints at my other job." 

"Ooohhh… Other job?" Alastor asked, shuddering as Angel rolled his hips.

"I dance." Angel answered simply, bracing his hands on Alastor's chest to rise, only to shove back down.

Alastor's hips bucked unexpectedly in response and they were both surprised by the loud honk that sounded as Angel's rear bumped against the steering wheel. Angel snorted, realizing quickly that it had been bound to happen with the size of the car and the position of the seat. He bit his lip, trying to hold back his laughter but only holding out until Alastor let out a wheeze of his own. Both wound up practically cackling for several minutes. Alastor nearly came right then, as Angel's laughter had his insides clench tightly around Alastor's cock, but he managed to hold back. Just barely.

"We should, ah, probably switch seats." Alastor suggested once they had calmed.

"What, this ain't doin' it for you?" Angel teased, purposefully rocking back to beep the horn again.

"Stop that, we'll be caught!" Alastor hissed.

Angel, defiant, beeped the horn a few more times to drive home the point that no one was around and it didn't matter. Also because he felt like keeping the joke going. It was a rarity that he got a john that had a sense of humor. Most treated sex far too seriously so Alastor was a nice break in the monotony.

Alastor breathed slowly through his nose, trying to keep himself from falling into another fit of giggles. None of the sex-centric songs he's heard had ever stated that sex would be so very silly. They did relocate to the back seat, given it had more room. 

The rest of the encounter was a bit boring to Alastor. Not to say that Angel wasn't talented; He was, but Alastor found he enjoyed the company more than the activity. Alastor could see some appeal to sex now, he supposed, but didn't much care either way. Still just a base urge that happened but was ultimately unecessary. What he _did_ find himself caring about was the laughter. It was an oddly addictive sound and much more appealing than the moans and whimpers Angel put out for show. 

It couldn't last, however. It had been a transaction. Nothing more. And Alastor had to drop off the other right where he had picked him up since Angel still wouldn't say where he lived. Alastor understood it was for safety, though it was still caused some odd discomfort in his chest to see the other man go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha beep beep


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor buys Angel's time again...and again...and again...and really it's getting a bit out of hand.

It was about a week later on the same street, same corner bar, that Alastor caught a glimpse of Angel again. He was sitting on a bench with his rear on the back of it and his feet on the seat, talking to a shorter woman sporting a ponytail and ripped leggings who was also sitting on the bench the wrong way. Again, traffic stalled to a halt. The woman laughed at something, and Angel left the bench to approach an expensive looking car in front of Alastor's own vehicle.

Alastor should have let it go there but he couldn't help himself. Before his rational mind could tell him it wouldn't matter, his hand hit the horn on his steering wheel. The car beeped. Angel looked up. 

Recognition washed over the bleach-blonde's face and he did the one thing Alastor really wanted; He laughed. And then he did something Alastor didn't expect. He left the car that clearly came from money to hop into Alastor's own less expensive, more practical car. 

"Fancy meetin' you here!" Angel greeted with a wide grin. 

"Well I was in the neighborhood." Alastor replied. "Are you _sure_ you don't favor the other car with the tacky neon underneath?"

"Nah, you're cuter." Angel chuckled. "Other guy was a dog." 

Alastor's smile widened, though he would never admit to the blush that darkened his face at the compliment. From then on it almost became a routine. Once a week like clockwork he would check the same corner. If Angel hadn't already been picked up yet, Alastor would honk to get his attention. Without fail, Angel would come to his car. The familiarity was nice.

"Heya Smiles!" Angel would greet him a bit later in the unsaid arrangement, almost like they were friends. 

Even if it was just an act, Alastor felt flattered that Angel at least seemed happy to see him. Alastor really couldn't have cared less about the sex that followed, only bothering with it as since Angel was a prostitute it was the onlt context for Alastor to meet with him. What Alastor really cared for was the conversations. Little bits of Angel's personality that bled through the facade. And of course, Alastor would do his damnedest to make Angel laugh. 

Alastor didn't know what it was. The laughter sure, but the fact that it was specifically Angel's laughter that got him to throw his money away just for the chance to hear it. It was beautiful and Alastor couldn't understand why or how he'd become practically addicted to it. And like any addiction he needed more. Laughter was just a gateway drug, it seemed; A gateway to needing a smile, a word, a wink, or even just a _glance_.

"Husker, I think I'm dying." Alastor declared, barging into his closest, and perhaps only friend's house. They were foster brothers, after all, so some closeness was expected.

"The door is deadbolted _and_ has a chain how the _fuck_ do you keep getting in here?" The older man gruffed, more annoyed than actually concerned with his home security.

"Witchcraft. Obviously." Alastor huffed sarcastically. In reality he had picked the deadbolt and cut the chain but Husk didn't need to know that much. If he couldn't figure it out himself, that was his own problem.

"Right. Voodoo." Husk sighed. "Why are you dying?" 

"There's this man--"

"Oh god fucking dammit." Husk grunted.

"It's like fuckin' a clown!" Angel told Cherri while rambling on about his new regular. "I can't get him to squeal but he'll fuckin' get me laughing with his dick in my mouth. Stupid jackass is lucky I haven't bit him on accident." 

"Bite him on purpose." Cherri suggested, brushing over Angel's nails with a hot pink polish.

A few fingernails were left short but Cherri had put clear acrylics on the others. Angel had already pulled her hair up and around into a braided updo, still with a high ponytail but just a little more complicated than it usually was. 

"I mean… I _could_." Angel mused, resting his chin on the hand that wasn't occupied. "Every time he picks me up he just tells me shit's up to me."

"Really?" Cherri asked, surprised.

"Really! Every single time he just says 'Dealer's choice' like he means it. He might even actually mean it." Angel confirmed. "Tryin' to figure out what's wrong with him since he's fine with vanilla shit and never asks for more."

"Bet he's a chaser." Cherri grunted. 

"Maybe…" Angel conceded, disappointed at the thought. "I hope not." 

"It's either that or he's got a wife he got bored with. Maybe even both. Dude, why does it matter?" Cherri asked, finishing one hand and motioning to switch. "He's just a paycheck." 

Angel did switch hands, waving the one with wet nails for a few seconds before just holding it out. He didn't have a good answer for that. A john was a john. 

"Any luck on the living situation?" Cherri asked, knowing when a change of subject was in order.

"Yeah, there's an older guy I found willin' to rent out his guest room." Angel answered. "Not that your couch ain't the Ritz."

"For cash or ass?" Cherri asked dubiously.

"Funny enough, cash." Angel answered, laughing. "The guy ain't interested far as I can tell."

"Good." Cherri said, finishing up and switching the pink bottle for a creme-colored one to add french tips to Angel's nails. "Don't need another one of _those_ situations… Once my lease is up we can find a place together." She pointed out. "Just a few months left. If the guy gets creepy you better come right back to my Ritzy couch." 

"Will do." Angel laughed. "Seriously though the guy's always so basted I don't think he can get it up anyway."

"Just stay safe, Angie." Cherri said, pulling him into a hug. "Don't make me have to catch a murder charge for you. You know I will."

"Watch the fuckin' nails." Angel warned, deflecting.

Cherri took the hint to be less serious, circling back to the earlier topic. "Hey if the funny guy's so set on 'dealer's choice' you should peg him. If he's a chaser that'll scare him off real quick. If not he'll probably love it. Either way you might just get that squeal you're after." 

Angel cackled. "I should!"

"What's his name anyway?" Cherri asked, a test if Angel had ever heard one.

"You know I don't ask." Angel shrugged. "But… I been callin' him Smiles in my head." 

"Just don't get attached." Cherri warned. 

Angel scoffed. "Come on. What kind of hoe do you think I am?"

"I know _you_ , Anthony." Cherri said sternly. "Be careful." 

"I'm always careful."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor runs a bit late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot goddammit.

It was different this time when Angel hopped into Alastor's car. He was more jittery than usual. A bit manic and very tactile with himself, particularly taken with rubbing his hands along the denim of his shorts. It was noticeably off, so once Alastor parked somewhere and Angel tried pulling himself onto the other's lap, Alastor stopped him. He clicked on the overhead light and pushed Angel's face up toward it, taking note of how his blown pupils didn't shrink in the slightest.

"You're high." Alastor said, mildly disappointed.

"Hm, yeah." Angel sighed, fiddling with the zipper of a small backpack he'd brought with him. "Still dealer's choice? I brought a toy this time, if you're open."

"I'm not having sex with you while you're high." Alastor stated sternly. 

"Fine, kick me out then." Angel huffed, instantly shifting from an overly perky mood to a sour one. He reached for the door and opened it, only for Alastor to reach over him to pull it shut. "What? If you ain't in a fuckin' mood don't waste my time."

Alastor really didn't want to leave Angel on his own to be picked up by someone else who would take advantage. "Let me take you home. Where do you live?" 

"Nunya." Angel said, still sounding irritated. "My new roommate'll probably have a fit if I bring a john home. Besides, still gotta get a payin' customer."

That was different than what Alastor expected, the usual answer that Angel didn't need a stalker. It also confirmed that if Alastor left him alone or took him back that Angel would probably end up in worse hands than his own. Perhaps a bit impulsive, but he had been ready to spend the money anyway.

"I'll still pay you." Alastor stated quickly. 

Angel squinted at him dubiously, head rolling oddly on his neck. "The fuck for? You just said you ain't screwin' tonight."

"I could still do with the company." Alastor said instead of his first thought: _I just want to keep you safe._

"You're fuckin' weird." Angel snorted, letting go of his annoyance just as quickly as he had fallen into it. "Okay."

"Fantastic!" Alastor said brightly. "Have you eaten?"

"Nah," Angel answered, running his hands along the seat of the car now that his hands had evidently gotten bored with the fabric of his own clothes. "You gonna feed me somethin', babe?"

Alastor recognized the tone of an innuendo. Angel was good at turning most things into one. Still Alastor ignored the implication as he had already stated this appointment, for lack of a better word, would be an innocent sort. He pulled the car back onto the main road, heading toward a diner that he knew to be open during the night. 

"Oh. You're _actually_ feeding me." Angel said when he noticed where they were. 

"Yes indeedy!" Angel's outfit was a bit revealing, so upon opening the car door for him Alastor shed his jacket and passed it to the other who put it on with a mildly confused look.

"It ain't even cold." Angel said.

"You must be northern." Alastor guessed. "Not that the accent isn't a bit of a give-away." 

"Oh, maybe a while back." Angel replied, walking ahead to open the door for them both and picking out a booth. "And I don't have an accent. You got an accent."

"I have a few." Alastor admitted, sitting. "It helps with a little show I do. Well, podcast, technically but I run them as streams first, then archive them." 

Angel sat as well, pushing his back to the corner and putting his feet up on the rest of the seat. "What's it about?"

"Vintage media, mostly." Alastor said. "Old news articles I find interesting. Commentary on radio shows. I'm planning on going over War of the Worlds soon."

"Heard about that one. Didn't everyone panic cuz they took it serious?" Angel chuckled. "People were fuckin' gullible."

"They still are." Alastor sighed. 

The diner was simple, with a standard menu. Comfort food, mostly, and serving breakfast, lunch, or dinner at any time. A good thing, since Angel suddenly had a severe need for scrambled eggs despite it being some time past eleven at night. Alastor, by contrast, was happy with a pulled pork sandwich and steak fries which he drenched in tabasco.

"You're such a freak!" Angel laughed. "You dip fries, not drown them." 

Well that wasn't nearly the worst thing Alastor had been called a freak for, and the laugh that came with it was well worth the insult. It had been a playful dig anyway.

"Says the man eating breakfast near to midnight." Alastor shot back.

"Yeah it's almost midnight cuz you were late." Angel snickered, then sighed. "Thought you weren't gonna show this week…" 

Alastor hadn't even realized that he had been so predictable. So much so that Angel had started to rely on his punctuality. 

"Is that why you've drugged yourself?"

"It wasn't much. I'm already comin' down." Angel deflected. 

"What was it?" Alastor asked.

"Why? You want some of it? Shit costs money, you know." Angel huffed, then looked down at his half-finished food. "But since we're tradin' favors anyway…"

"No." Alastor shook his head. "I just want to know if I should have poison control on speed-dial."

"I ain't got insurance. If I start shakin' just roll me over." Angel shrugged. "If I croak, I croak. It's fine, though. I know what I'm doin' and I mostly quit the hard shit already. The fuck you care anyway?" 

" _The fuck I care_ is that I would prefer your company over your corpse." Alastor bit sharply. He wasn't one to curse often, but he felt the need in this case. "Quite the compliment, I assure you."

Angel looked away, grimacing. The rest of the meal was eaten in a tense silence. Finally Angel spoke when they got back into Alastor's car.

"It was just laced weed." 

"Just." Alastor nodded, contemplative. 

"Been weaning myself off the hard shit." Angel continued. "I get the shakes real bad though. I can't just drop it all at once. Bit of dust in a blunt helps even me out when I get too low." 

That was understandable at least and it was nice to know that Angel was making the effort to quit. It was just bad timing that Alastor had caught him when he did. 

"Have you considered rehab?"

"Shit costs money." Angel echoed his earlier statement. "I can blow for blow but medical bullshit only takes actual money."

"Right." Alastor sighed. 

"You sure you don't feel like fuckin'?" Angel asked, changing the subject. 

"I don't actually care much about…" Alastor trailed off, realizing that if he finished that sentence it may not go very well. "Not this time." 

"You're a lonely guy, aren'tcha?" Angel asked, watching Alastor's face while Alastor watched the road. 

"I tend to make people nervous." He admitted. A light passed over, Alastor's brown eyes glinting almost red in that brief second. "I'm not sure why." 

"I can see that. You smile real wide like you're forcin' it and you talk like you're tryin' to sell somethin'. Like a posessed car salesman, kinda." Angel shrugged. "Kinda charming, kinda creepy."

Alastor chuckled, unoffended. He couldn't deny that much, aware of it. "And yet you aren't put off?"

"You're payin' me." Angel pointed out. "Besides that… You ain't hurt me yet and you fuckin' could've." 

"You haven't given me a reason." Alastor returned.

It was the wrong thing to say.

"Yeah." Angel said, tone dropping into dry. He pulled out his phone, texting while talking. "Yeah, that's funny. Listen, you should drop me back where you picked me up. My friend'll come get me." 

Alastor's smile dropped somewhat. The friendly air between them was gone and it had been his own doing. He did as asked, leaving Angel on the corner. The woman who usually sat with him was there already, leaning against a motorcycle. Alastor waited for Angel to hop onto the bike behind her, both disappearing from his sight before he turned the car around to go home. 

It wasn't until he was in his own driveway that he had left his coat on Angel, and noticed the bag Angel had left behind. He sighed and took it inside with him. He set it on the kitchen counter, glad for the fact that whatever was in the bag would give Angel reason to see him again, if only to retrieve his belongings. Then, Alastor wondered what was in the bag. Angel _had_ mentioned a toy.

Giving into curiosity, Alastor opened the bag. The mass of condoms was expected. Less expected was a sort of harness with a very obvious pink shape attached to it. 

"Oh." Alastor said aloud, zipping the bag back up. "That sort of toy..." 

He shouldn't have expected anything different, given thought about it. Well, Alastor supposed he wouldn't be _opposed._ So long as it was Angel, he had found he was open to quite a bit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor is absolutely not stalking Angel and Angel makes unwise decisions but that's alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Husk is Tired™

Husk had replaced his door chain, Alastor noticed. No matter, as Alastor kept bolt cutters in his trunk. Really, if Husk would invest in better home security, Alastor wouldn't have to keep showing him just how easy it was to get in. Once indoors, and no one came to scold him, Alastor sighed. He'd really been hoping for conversation from the one person whose advice usually made some sense to him but either Husk was out for the day or passed out.

On his way out he noticed an odd discrepancy. His jacket was tossed over the back of the couch. The jacket he had left with Angel. He picked it up, an odd streak of jealousy meshing with the awkward implications of Angel leaving his jacket in his brother's house. Paying more attention now, Alastor realized he could hear quiet singing coming from another room. The guest room. 

Angel was still here. 

A wiser man may have just left, but Alastor instead followed his ears. The voice was a bit flat, but still nice. It was clearer as well as Alastor got closer to the cracked door. He could see Angel now, in comfortable soft clothes instead of the revealing and form-fitting ones he was used to seeing. Angel was dancing with his eyes closed and headphones on, happy and smiling. Alastor mused to himself that that's what perfect must look like. 

But then Angel turned, opening his eyes mid-twirl to avoid knocking into anything and noticed his audience. Singing became a scream and he fell backward as his fight-or-flight decided flight was the best course.

"Did you fuckin' follow me?!" Angel demanded.

"No, I--"

"Get the fuck out of here!" Angel continued, not listening. He scrambled for a low drawer of the dresser, pulling out a small handgun. 

"I'm not--" Alastor tried again, backing away.

Suddenly and arm came around his middle, hauling him back. "Don't shoot him." A gruff voice sounded. "He's not dangerous. He's just a fuckin' idiot."

"You know each other." Angel realized, lowering the pistol. 

"Unfortunately." Husk answered, letting Alastor go.

"I swear I'm not stalking you." Alastor said, still caught up on that line of thought. "I just came here to talk to Husker."

"If you have to specify you ain't stalking somebody that's a problem, Al." Husk muttered, leaving the hallway. "Keep it down. I was sleeping."

Angel took a deep breath, reassessing the situation he was in. He picked up his headphones which had fallen to the floor in his unbalanced retreat. "So… You and my roommate are… Friends or...?"

"Family." Alastor answered. 

Angel eyed Alastor dubiously. "He's kinda pale to be related to you, ain't he?" 

"Foster brother." Alastor elaborated with an amused smirk. "No blood between us but I think it still counts."

"It does." Angel agreed.

"How do _you_ know Husker? You weren't here last time I pestered him." Alastor asked, curious.

"I just moved in. We're bar-buddies, sorta." Angel shrugged. "He helped me out once and we got to talkin'. I needed a place, he had the spare room. Cheaper than tryin' to get an apartment and they ask for paystubs which don't fly if half your income is cash." 

An awkward silence fell between them as Alastor realized it was very likely Angel had been homeless when he had picked him up the first time. First few times, even. Angel was used to having a professional barrier between them, so meeting accidentally in a personal space threw him off a bit. It didn't help that he had begun to feel a little less professional about this particular regular. 

"You, um…" Alastor stammered. "You left your _prosthetic_ in my car."

Angel snorted. "Was wonderin' where the fuck my dick ran off to."

"That… is a horrific mental image." Alastor commented dryly.

Angel laughed. Then they both cackled and the tension was broken by the shared strange humor. 

_"Shut the fuck up!"_ Sounded Husk's annoyed voice from another room.

"Trade you your coat back for it." Angel suggested.

"Left it in my apartment." Alastor admitted. "The car gets hot in the daytime and I didn't know if it would melt."

"Well you've been in my room now." Angel pointed out, after a quiet moment of visible internal conflict finally added. "May as well make shit fair?"

"I had assumed with how we parted you might be reluctant to meet with me again and now you want to see my room?" Alastor pointed out.

"That shit you said about me not givin' you a reason to hurt me was kinda fucked up. But hey, Husk said you ain't dangerous and I already know you got an odd sense of humor. I should've figured you was jokin'." Angel shrugged. "Dry jokes don't always hit right away. I know you didn't mean nothin' by it. It was just scary in the moment, you know? Some guys _do_ mean that shit."

"I didn't." Alastor said earnestly.

"I know." Angel sighed. "You're one of the nice ones. Let me put on actual clothes, okay?"

That of course implied there were mean ones. Angel didn't elaborate though, and Alastor wasn't about to push in case it was a sore subject. He left Angel's room to let the other change out of his lounge clothes in privacy, taking his jacket from the couch. The spike of jealousy had faded with the misunderstanding to make way for a different set of nerves. 

He never brought strangers into his home with the intention of letting them leave. Then again, he and Angel weren't strangers anymore. He didn't have long to think of it before angel was out, pale pink skinny jeans, his usual boots, and a crop top that was nearly too short to hide the underside of his breast if not for the black bra underneath. 

"Work clothes, hm?" Alastor observed.

"Can't a man feel cute?" Angel returned playfully, leading the way out and to the car. "You mean you're lettin' me come to your place to grab my dick and you ain't expectin' to bone?" 

"Not a requirement." Alastor stated plainly, clicking the button on his keys to unlock it, letting Angel in before getting in himself.

"One day you're gonna drop that dealer's choice shit and tell me what you actually want and it's gonna be some freaky shit, I just _know_." Angel chuckled. 

"Well…" Alastor sighed, as he started the car. "I can't imagine you would bring your prosthetic with no intention of using it so that's an idea." 

"You can call it a dick." Angel pointed out. "I do."

The reached Alastor's home quickly, having managed to avoid the worst of the traffic. He held the door open for Angel, who wasn't shy about looking around. Alastor's house was cozy, tidy, and Angel didn't miss the odds and ends that mostly consisted of modern sound equipment juxtaposed against antique radios, collector's records, and old framed collages of news clippings.

"I'm a bit of an old soul." Alastor admitted. 

"Ain't nothin' wrong with that." Angel smiled, finding the phonograph and reading the record that was still sitting there. "Should've guessed you'd dig Cab Calloway."

"I have a segment for queer history. Just recorded a set yesterday but haven't edited yet." Alastor said, picking through a set of news clippings he hadn't framed yet before shoving the lot into Angel's hands. "Here. You'll like this."

Angel skimmed through them, noting every instance of the name 'Nell Pickerel' had ben struck through in Pen and replaced with 'Harry Allen'. They were all centered on a man, a transgender one, living in the 1910s who got locally famous for breaking hearts and fighting police. One of the headlines was even simply _Harry Again._ which showed just how often the guy had gotten himself into trouble. 

"He bit a cop? This guy is great!" Angel stated, handing the clippings back.

"History has its moments!" Alastor said cheerfully.

"Lotta bad moments…" Angel pointed out.

"People have always been people." Alastor returned. "I just enjoy seeing how culture has grown."

"Fuckin' nerd." Angel grinned. 

Alastor only grinned, heading to his kitchen to pick up the bag off the counter. Angel followed, fumbling to catch the bag as it was tossed his way. He nearly dropped it, but managed to grab it before it hit the floor. 

"So, uh…" Angel began. "Waitin' for our regular appointment or did you want to do somethin' now?" Angel asked.

"What do _you_ want?" Alastor returned, leaving it up to Angel's choice.

"Where's your bedroom?" Angel answered with a question of his own. 

"Got real nice hips, Smiles." Angel said softly, fingers running under the waistband over the crest of bone of Alastor's pelvis. "Could stand to eat more…"

"I have a rare deficiency." Alastor defended, unbuttoning his pants so Angel wouldn't have to bother.

"Ha!" Angel barked out a short laugh and pushed Alastor forward against the edge of the bed. "Relax. I'm italian. I'm gonna find a reason to feed you no matter what you say."

"You cook?" Alastor asked, only barely catching himself as he was knocked off-balance.

"When I got time and ingredients, yeah. What, you got a food kink?" 

"I don't think I have any kinks." Alastor admitted as he let Angel tug his pants off of him.

"Bullshit." Angel scoffed, putting a hand on the back of Alastor's head to push his face into a pillow. "You keep lettin' me pick whatever we do. Maybe that's somethin'. You like givin' somebody else the reins, huh?"

"I like _you_." Alastor corrected, turning his head to speak without being muffled.

Angel stilled at that, then rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Shut the fuck up." He'd already let Alastor cross a couple of lines already, taking him out to eat and being in his home, though neither of those had been intentional on Angel's part. What was one more? Making a few exceptions for one guy wouldn't hurt anything. 

_Right?_

Angel wondered about it as they finished undressing. He popped the cap of his travel bottle of lube and set to work. It didn't have to mean anything. He was probably misreading. 

Alastor, as was expected by now, talked through the whole process of Angel trying to loosen him up, oblivious to the fact that Angel had just had a very small mental crisis. Angel quickly forgot about it though, distracted by the story Alastor had begun about he and a friend wearing a cow skin to get close enough to shoot ducks without them flying away. 

"--So he taps me and says 'We need to go.' I tell him not yet because I'm trying to line up a good shot. He throws my aim off tapping me again. 'We really better go.' I tell him we're never going to get close like this again, just let me shoot one." Alastor explained, somehow managing to mostly keep his composure despite the fingers in his ass. "Then he says, 'Forget the ducks. Here comes the bull.'" 

Angel broke, laughing so hard he had to curl to avoid straining his stomach. Alastor grinned, enjoying the sound far more than anything else he had ever heard.

When Angel calmed, only the few aftershocks of giggles breaking through, he pulled his strapon out of the bag, taking it to the sink to wash it before pulling the harness on and securing the toy. He rolled a condom onto it, more for the sake of cleanliness than safety. 

"Ever take dick before or are you used to just topping?" 

"This is the first time." Alastor admitted, concern growing that maybe Angel might take issue with that.

"Start slow, got it." Angel said easily, no judgement as he guided Alastor to brace on his hands and knees. 

"Does it matt-- _oh_ …" Alastor began, but immediately lost the sentence as Angel carefully pushed into him. 

"If you need me to stop let me know." Angel told him, pausing a moment after he got the toy all the way in, letting Alastor adjust before moving. 

"I can handle it." Alastor assured, though his traitorous voice cracked.

Angel chuckled. "Well now I feel challenged."

Angel did start slow, as he said he would. Alastor breathed heavily, feeling too warm but not minding so much as he eventually caught onto the rhythm and began to push back to meet Angel's leisurely rocking. Then Angel paused and Alastor heard the telling pop of the lube cap. 

"Wha--Ah!" Alastor moaned, unable to help it as Angel went from a steady thrust to rutting like an animal, extra lube easing the way.

Alastor trying to speak again, but the best he could manage was a few stammers and heavy panting. 

"Finally gotcha speechless, huh Smiles?" Angel teasted, chuckling against his bare shoulder. "Sounds like you like bein' railed better than gettin' your dick wet." 

Alastor keened, unable to properly answer as Angel thrusted into him harder. It was becoming a struggle to hold himself up, braced on his elbows but losing the bodily control to stay that way as it was all he could do not to melt. 

Angel must have noticed, pulling Alastor's back against him as he sat back on his knees. He locked an arm around Alastor's shoulder, the other hand fondling Alastor's balls as he thrusted quickly up into him, earning another involuntary vocalization for it.

"Soundin' real pretty for me." Angel murmured against the crook of his neck.

Alastor embarrassingly thought he sounded more akin to a wounded elk than any sort of appealing noise but he appreciated Angel saying so. He couldn't get much of a coherent thought out of his mouth, a shame since he really wanted to ask Angel what his favorite thing to cook was. Maybe what his favorite food at all was so that Alastor could surprise him with it next time. 

Angel's lower hand moved slightly upward, wrapping around the base of Alastors cock. He stroked at a lazy pace, offsetting against the fact his hips hadn't slowed. Alastor shuddered, suddenly hyperaware of how hot his body felt, and how nice it was to be held against Angel's chest.

"That's it, babe." Angel praised as Alastor came with a wimper, fucking him through it a moment before letting him go to collapse. 

"Ugh…" Alastor winced as Angel carefully pulled out. "I'll have to change sheets…" 

"Nah, I know a trick." Angel said brightly, leaning over and opening his mouth. 

Alastor pushed him back before he could clean up the blanket with his tongue. "Do _not_. That is disgusting."

"Other guys dig that shit." Angel shrugged, pulling the top blanket out from under the other, folding it so that the mess was contained, and tossing it to the floor. "It'll wash."

"I know but the fact it now requires washing is irritating…" Alastor stated, feeling pleasantly boneless. 

Angel removed the condom, tossing it toward the small trash bin he noticed near the nightstand. He unclipped the strapon, kicking it to the floor before cuddling close and overstepping another of his own lines. Alastor was different. 

"Let me rest a moment." Alastor said softly. "I have your pay I just don't trust myself to walk quite yet."

"Hey, no worries." Angel dismissed. "I'm off clock anyway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The news clippings Al shows Angel are of this guy: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_Allen_(trans_man)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im tired so this is kinda clunked together. Im sorry

Angel's appointments with Alastor were held in Alastor's home after that initial visit. It was nice using an actual bed and Alastor now had the foresight to lay a towel out. Still, he was not used to having company. 

"There's an arm in the fridge." Angel reported after processing the sight. He'd gone in the kitchen for water and checked the fridge for bottles first because sink water in a city wasn't always a good think to drink without boiling first. On the bottom shelf there was an entire arm, shoulder to fingers, wrapped in plastic and frosted over.

Alastor had forgotten he'd set it there yesterday. Oh well, it had been seen now. "Yes." He confirmed calmly as he hoped that not making a big deal out of it would help the situation. Angel wasn't panicking or calling the police which was good so far, but also very odd. "You're reacting rather well to this." Alastor said after a pause.

"I'm ex-mafia. I've seen worse shit, I just wasn't expecting it from _you._ " Angel sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Shit just follows me," He muttered under his breath before speaking up again. "What the fuck is an arm doin' in your fridge?" Angel asked tensely.

"Thawing."

"Why?" Angel squinted, hands on his hips.

Alastor stalled nervously, worrying his lip with his teeth before answering. "I did tell you I have a rare deficiency."

Angel let out a deep sigh through his nose, shifting his weight to one hip and looking a fair bit more annoyed than afraid like most people would be. " _People_ , Smiles?"

"I don't naturally produce the prion protein so I get it from people who do!"

"That's… There has _got_ to be a better way." Angel sighed. "You're gonna get a disease."

"What, kuru?" Alastor asked. "Only if I bother eating the brain."

"Knew somethin' had to be wrong with you." Angel muttered, shaking his head. "Jesus Harold Christ…"

"Why does something _have_ to be wrong with me?" Alastor asked, feeling somewhat offended.

"Because you're too damn perfect otherwise." Angel huffed. 

Offense became flattered all too quickly. "Oh," Said Alastor, as it was the only thing he could think of to say.

"I need somethin'." Angel stated dryly, letting himself into Cherri's apartment instead of going home. It was only halfway out of habit.

"Angie, come on…" Cherri sighed. "Don't tell me you ran out of coke that fast."

Cherri wasn't a dealer, but she was helping Angel control his impulses toward drugs. He kept his stash with her, knowing she wouldn't give him more than absolutely necessary. She had the willpower and stubbornness he needed to stay on the proverbial wagon, or at least chase behind and keep the wagon in sight. He might never be completely clean but he could give it an honest shot so long as Cherri was there to keep him honest. 

"I don't need coke I need…" Angel almost asked for his favored PCP but remembered he didn't have any with Cherri. Last time riding that high had nearly killed him and he'd sworn it off. "Fuck if I know, just gimme somethin' to blame."

"Blame…" Cherri repeated. "Oh for fuck sake how many rules did you break?"

"I know his name is Al, he's been in my room. Neither of those are my fault by the way. Kept fuckin' him after he'd been in my room, he takes dick like a champ by the way so he for sure ain't straight. Didn't charge him once…" Angel listed them out on his fingers, pointedly leaving out the arm that he was still thinking about but trying very hard not to. "I think we even went on a halfassed date without fuckin' because he doesn't like his hoes drugged which is a fuckin novelty."

"Oh my god poor baby." Cherri said, surprisingly sincere even as she reached up to swat the top of Angel's head. "Don't. Get. Attached."

"I think it might be too late." Angel said sheepishly.

"Get your ass in the chair of shame." Cherri ordered, pointing at the stated piece of furniture.

"Nooooo." Angel whined, but accepted his fate and plopped down onto the raggedly old chair Cherri had picked off the side of the road without realizing it had been rained on. It had looked fine at the time but was crooked and smelled a bit off as the wood inside of it had started to rot. "You really gotta toss this thing out."

"I will when you help me carry it." Cherri replied, leaving her living room and coming back with a small bag that held two small chalky pills. "This is it for a week." She warned. "And be careful with Al… Is it Albert or Alan?"

"I don't know what it's short for." Angel admitted. "Alphonse?"

"Alejandro?"

"Albania."

"That's not even a name." Cherri pointed out. "Alex, maybe?"

Angel just continued, making a game of it. "...Allergies."

"Aluminum." Cherri stated, catching on.

"Alligator."

"All Star."

"Elevator."

"That doesn't even fit." Cherri snorted.

"Get more lube then." Angel joked.

"Oh no wonder you went and caught feelings for the comedian." Cherri groaned, covering her smile with a hand.

"I wouldn't call it…" Angel began, but found he couldn't honestly deny it. "Oh fuck you."

"Not my type." Cherri stuck her tongue out childishly.

"You couldn't afford it anyway." Angel snickered. 

"Just go for johns that show up before him. Quit waiting for him." Cherri advised. "Either cut him out or ask him out." 

"It ain't that simple." Angel sighed. 

"Cuz you ain't letting it be simple." Cherri huffed. "You taking that here or is it for later?"

Angel considered the small bag. There were two pills and he shrugged. "Halfsies." He decided.

Cherri nodded. "Okay, then we're watching Alien while you're high." 

Horror movies while giggly was always a fun time, so Angel agreed to those terms easily. He saved the second pill for later, something to blame when his heart inevitably ran out of reach of his rationality.


	6. Chapter 6

Alastor had spent far too long listening to the same clip, over and over trying to edit it to sound proper without really paying attention. He wondered if he should just cut it out entirely. He could record it again, or just leave it. He sighed, glanced at the clock, and grimaced. Maybe he should just go over it again tomorrow. He had a guest to pick up after all.

Even though he knew for Angel it was just business as usual, Alastor still enjoyed their time together and he knew Angel must have considered it similarly in some fashion or he would have had police at his door by now. At any time, Angel could report him over the partial body he had found. It was dangerous for Alastor to have that trust, but so far it hadn't backfired. Angel had just taken it in stride. Further proof of something akin to at _least_ friendship. 

It felt like more than that for Alastor. He still didn't quite understand the more repetitive songs about sex despite having had it multiple times in various ways. He didn't care for it as much as he did the company and could do without, though he didn't mind it. Any activity could be enjoyable so long as it was to make Angel smile, he'd noticed. He was starting to understand the love songs, however. Especially the soulful ones. How he had ever appreciated Billie Holiday before, he couldn't be sure.

He hadn't told Angel that. Nothing past that initial statement of _'I like you.'_ because Angel had told him to shut up directly after. A confession of feelings he had only barely begun to understand might not be well received. He wasn't willing to risk Angel never agreeing to see him again just for the sake of saying things that were better off kept to himself. 

"Heya Smiles!" Angel chirped as he tossed a bag in the floorboard of the car near his feet, the same greeting every time but sounding just a bit softer this time. 

Alastor chalked the change in tone up to his imagination and wishful thinking. "Hello!" He returned, making a turn to head right back home. 

There was a change of clothing however. There was less skin on display than usual aside from the ripped jeans and while Angel hadn't quite fully flattened his chest he was certainly wearing a sports bra under his ACDC sweater. 

"Cold night?" Alastor asked.

"Nah, just spent the night with my girl-buddy and forgot a change of clothes so I borrowed some of hers." Angel shrugged. 

"You stayed in her clothes all day?" Alastor wondered. 

"I do have a legal job too. Didn't have time to go home and change." Angel pointed out.

"I can stop by Husker's if you would like." Alastor offered. 

"Nah." Angel shook his head. "But you can drive me home after." 

Alastor conceded to that, choosing to see it as a mark of progress since usually Angel preferred to be dropped off back at the corner Alastor picked him up from. Then again, Angel seemed a bit off. Not high this time, just distracted. It didn't get much better when Alastor let him into his house.

"Are you alright?"

"Hm?" Angel asked, then shook his head. "Yeah, I'm just tired." 

"You're welcome to rest. Have you eaten?"

"No, but I don't eat people." Angel chuckled. 

"I don't eat _only_ people." Alastor scoffed, relieved that it was something Angel was unbothered enough to joke about. 

"Don't waste your money on me takin' a nap. Unless you're tryin' for some somnophilia or some shit." Angel stated. "I'm a light sleeper anyway but I can fake it." 

"No." Alastor shook his head. "Nothing like that."

Angel reluctantly agreed to take a nap while Alastor cooked. He couldn't completely sleep, mind racing. It was a mental exhaustion that had him out of sorts to begin with, so the best he could do was doze for a while, listening to the sounds of a pot coming to boil in the other room. 

"Fuckin' weirdo." Angel sighed and dug through his bag for the last pill he had. 

Whatever domestic fantasy Alastor seemed to be indulging in was sweet but for Angel it was scary how much it made his heart ache with the wish that it was real and not just some other job. Angel didn't want to deal with it sober, so he let the pill dissolve on his tongue as he laid down and counted the dials on the switchboard on the desk across from the bed. By the time Alastor came into the room to report the food was finished Angel was blissfully out of his head but even further in his feelings.

"Smiles." He said softly. Tender in a way Alastor had never heard anyone refer to him before. 

Angel reached out, and Alastor couldn't deny him the closeness he clearly wanted. Angel grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss that felt desperate. He usually didn't bother with kisses and Alastor couldn't help but notice a bitter aftertaste hiding in the mint of mouthwash; Angel had taken something, and quite recently.

"What did you take this time?" Alastor asked, pulling back. 

"Had to turn it off…" Angel replied, the cheer in his tone fading to sadness so easily. His hands gripping Alastor's shirt harder, plainly afraid that Alastor might leave him alone. "Just made it worse." 

"What are you talking about?" Alastor asked. 

Angel started to cry then, and Alastor didn't have a clue how to help other than to follow the guidance of the other's hands as they moved to hold him. They rolled somewhat so they were on their sides to hold each other. Equal.

"Angel?" Alastor asked, when the crying had slowed. 

"Call me Anthony." Angel replied, sniffling. "Ain't nothin' angelic about me now…"

Trust and heartbreak all at once. It made Alastor sick with rage to wonder who had taught Angel, _Anthony_ , that the two should ever be in the same breath. But rage wasn't what Anthony needed now, so Alastor tempered it.

"Could you…?" Anthony began, but stopped short as he was suddenly too nervous to say.

"Anything." Alastor murmured, petting Anthony's hair. 

"Could you say you love me?" Anthony asked. "Just once. You don't gotta mean it. I know you don't mean it, I just… Let me pretend. Just this once."

Alastor was quiet, reflecting on everything that had brought him to this moment and wondered what blind chance had led his angel to the same. He'd never put much stock in fate or soulmates. Everything had always been blind chance, luck, or self-made happenstance. But then he hadn't believed he was capable of feeling the way that Anthony made him feel either. 

"What if I do?" He asked. And when he felt Anthony's nose scrunch the way it always did when he was confused against his throat, Alastor continued. "Mean it, I mean. What if I do love you?"

"You barely fuckin' know me." Anthony whispered. "You just want free screwin'." He accused, sounding experienced in such an occurrence. He wanted the lie but hadn't been prepared for the sincerity.

"I don't care about sex." Alastor admitted.

"The hell else you buyin' a hooker so often for, then?" Anthony scoffed.

"I've been buying your attention." Alastor corrected. "I admit the first time was a chance encounter to sate a curiosity but every single time after I really just wanted to see you, talk with you. Make you laugh." 

"Curios--I was a fuckin' experiment?" Anthony hissed, taking the wrong mental road. "For what? Seein' if you can give gay a shot so long as the guy don't got a--"

"I'm not gay." Alastor cut him off, and quickly continued when Anthony seethed. "I'm not straight either, I'm ace. I was curious about sex in general and happened to be wondering why its such a prevalent focus to nearly everyone else when you knocked on my window."

Anthony calmed, realizing the miscommunication as it was corrected. And then another realization hit him, delayed by the drug in his system but no less effective. "Damn, Smiles, you gave your v-card to some hoe you just met?"

"Who better than a professional?" Alastor pointed out cheerfully. 

Angel laughed at that. "Still, you didn't know me." 

"I know you now, at least a little." Alastor protested softly. "I think I've known you a thousand times. In the past. In the future. In another life where we are animals instead of people, I know you. I want to know you in this life too." 

"Fuckin' sap. What did _you_ take?" Anthony huffed.

"I suppose whatever was left on your tongue when you kissed me." Alastor shrugged, and Anthony laughed. "I thought you were cutting back?" Alastor pointed out. 

"Don't gotta blame my stupid fuckin' heart if I can blame a high." Anthony sighed. "Was just one. I don't got the tolerance for E that I do with other shit…" He trailed off. "I just needed _somethin_."

"Well I made gumbo. That's something." Alastor said.

"Who's in it?" Anthony snarked.

"No one you know." Alastor answered. "Unless you happen to be friendly with a couple dozen shrimp."

Again, Anthony laughed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meaningful thoughts tend to happen in the shower, so why not meaningful conversations?

Angel woke up in a bed that was not his own, but at least it was familiar. He also registered one of his arms was numb, trapped under another body. He knew the dark curly hair he was looking at though, even if Alastor's face was hidden from his view at the moment. He'd evidently stayed the night, another one of his rules broken. Not that it mattered anymore with how much he'd let himself get away with as far as Alastor was concerned. 

Angel wriggled a bit, trying to find the glowing letters of a digital clock but it was useless. The clock Alastor did have was the old sort with gears instead of led lights and Angel couldn't read those in the dark. It was definitely some time in the night or early morning, and enough time had passed for his high to wear off. There was also the fact that he really needed to get up and find the bathroom; The spice from the gumbo had been just fine to eat but wasn't agreeing with him after the fact and Alastor's weight on his stomach wasn't doing him any favors.

"Ugh… Smiles, let me up?"

Alastor hummed, rolling only somewhat after Angel tapped him. It was enough for Angel to move, though he had to fight with his numb arm for a moment catch his balance properly. A quick check in the bathroom confirmed nothing had happened, not that Angel assumed differently; He already knew Alastor wouldn't do anything while he was high. It was still a habit to check.

Letting his memory, foggy as it was, to fall into place in his mind. He'd been at the peak of his high when he asked Alastor something he shouldn't have. He glared at his reflection in the mirror. 

"You're fuckin' pathetic…" He told the mirror. 

"Don't talk to yourself so harshly." Alastor answered, having come into the open doorway with a towel in hand. He held it up. "Thought you may want to wash up. You're welcome to the shower." 

Angel nodded. The towel was a soft pink, not at all Alastor's color, and obviously new. Something that clashed horribly with the rest of the house, but something obviously there all the same just for Angel. Tangible proof that Alastor wanted him to be comfortable here. Their hands touched as Angel took the towel, and both were silent for a moment before Alastor spoke.

"You said something to me a few hours ago and if you prefer we can forget it." Alastor said, carefully controlling his tone. "But _I_ meant what _I_ said."

"Smiles--"

"Alastor is fine, Anthony." 

Anthony shook his head. "I ain't forgettin' it. I just... Shit's complicated."

"I know." Alastor sighed. "Not nearly the best start."

"Start?"

"If you'd like." Alastor quickly amended, only barely catching his stammer.

"Al, I can't just quit hookin'."

"I'm not asking you to." Alastor pointed out. "I know that you are surviving and I do not suffer from the illusion that love and sex are the same thing." 

Angel turned, plopping down onto the closed lid of the toilet to sit. He tucked the towel onto his lap and put his head in his hands, having far too much to think about this early in the morning. 

"Should I go?" Alastor asked after an uncomfortable pause. 

"It's your bathroom." Angel huffed.

"Should I _go?_ " Alastor repeated sternly.

"Nah." Angel said quietly, straightening up and glancing over to the tub because he wasn't sure he wanted to see how serious Alastor's face was when his voice sounded like that. "Show me the knobs?" He decided to continue, since trying to figure out the workings of someone else's bathroom was always a shitshow. 

Alastor quickly showed him, turning the water on and adjusting the taps. "You'll have to have the cold up higher than you usually do, I'm sure. My heater gets past scalding." He purposely left out the fact he had made that adjustment to the heater due to the fact he often bled his kills in the tub; Anthony really had no need to know that. Not right now at least. 

"Join me?" Anthony asked, already disrobing to step into the water, cursing as even after Alastor had adjusted it it was still a smidge too hot. 

Alastor smirked, and hesitantly nodded. He undressed and followed the other in, not sure what to expect but opting to roll with whatever. Anthony knew what he had expected, and it certainly wasn't for Alastor to wash his hair for him. There was no ogling, no groping, and not even a hint at Alastor wanting anything more untoward than simply Anthony's company. 

"You seriously don't give a shit about fuckin' me." Anthony chuckled. "Even when I'm wet and naked, bumpin' hips with you."

"If this was meant to be an invitation you should have asked more bluntly." Alastor pointed out. "I wouldn't mind and I do enjoy it but it isn't my focus, no."

Anthony smiled, letting out a sigh as a weight he wasn't aware of previously left him with it. He pulled Alastor into his arms under the spray, then somewhat out of the spray as he heard the shorter man sputter. No need to drown each other. He hadn't meant the water-saving as a test but Alastor had passed anyway. 

"Should I wait for you to be high again before I tell you I love you or is now a good time?" Alastor asked, some contradictory mix of teasing and sincere. 

"Now's pretty great actually." Anthony chuckled. "Dumb as it is to catch feelin's in my line of work, I love you too."

"I think, when you finish drowning me I could arrange a night out instead of our usual appointment?" Alastor asked. "That seems an appropriate step."

"I'd be happy stayin' in. We could get drunk and watch stupid movies." Angel suggested. "Or one of the old black-and-white ones I know you got somewhere."

"Oh I have several." Alastor confirmed. "Silent comedies are particularly good, I think."

"I _will_ talk over them." Anthony warned. "Consider it payback for havin' whole goddamn monologues whenever I blow you." 

"I could sing instead, if you would prefer to be serenaded." Alastor snarked.

They both laughed.


End file.
